200 Hours
by Lonestarr
Summary: As time ticks away, one may find that this is just the punishment they needed.
1. Humiliation

Disclaimer: All I see when I look for "Total Drama" fanfics are the same old pairings. Very few people want to venture outside the shipping crate. Kind of depressing, really.

It was a peaceful June night in Vancouver.

The Ferrari was a tangled mess by the side of the road. Perhaps, there were a few too many drinks consumed by the two occupants at the party they left not fifteen minutes ago. Given how much the driver had imbibed, it's a wonder the car hadn't crashed earlier. Luckily, there was a lamppost to stop the vehicle from incurring any further damage.

The handsome blade at the wheel groaned as he awoke and grabbed his head, more because of the accident than any remorse over the drinking. The effects of the alcohol seemed to be playing tricks on him, as he was sure he saw a flash of lightning a few minutes ago, and yet, there was no thunder, or even a hint of rain.

He glanced over at his passenger. Just as unconscious as he had been only moments ago. He had to admit that, when she wasn't talking, she was like a brunette angel.

The sound of sirens burst to life in the distance. Mustering as much consciousness as he could, he struggled out of the driver's seat. Making his way out of the car, he winced at the pain in his leg. He hobbled around to the passenger's seat and released the girl from her patent leather prison. 'Isn't that perfect?', he thought. 'Not a mark on her'.

The girl started to groan.

Time was of the essence. He carried her, bridal-style, toward the driver's seat, placed her hands on the steering wheel and buckled her in. He glanced behind him. Red and blue lights. The young man hobbled around to the passenger seat and eased himself in.

"Ah, _mi amor_", he sighed as he buckled his seatbelt. "There comes a time in every person's life where they must face the consequences of their actions…" Sirens roared in the distance as he brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. "…but this time, that person will be you."

* * *

"Your honor, the defendant was disoriented." The comb-over of the young man's court-appointed attorney seemed to stand on end even with his constant movement about the courtroom. "She'd had quite a bit to drink that night, so of course she'd claim that she wasn't driving. My client is lucky to be alive."

And so, he was. A cast on his leg and a neck brace (which, really, he didn't even need) could attest to that. The angelic defendant had only bandages…and a scowl that could melt glass.

The plaintiff smiled when he was sure she wasn't looking and feigned sadness when he knew she was. Neither the jury nor the peanut gallery happened to catch these facial tics.

The young woman rose from her seat, eyes full of fire. "This is ridiculous! I wasn't driving! He was! Just ask anyone at that party."

The judge adjusted his glasses. "Do you really think me so ignorant to believe that he carried you out of the passenger's seat, put you in the driver's seat and seated himself in your place?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes, dammit!"

The judge pointed his gavel at the young woman. "One more word out of you, young lady, and you'll be held in contempt of court."

The girl opened her lips to speak.

"One…more…word."

She closed her mouth and sulkily took a seat. The judge nodded before turning to Captain Combover.

"Does counsel have any closing statements?"

The plaintiff's lawyer shook his head. "No, your honor."

The defendant's lawyer, a sharp young man, stood up. "Your honor, this is my client's first offense. Despite her attitude, she has never committed any criminal offenses prior to this. Hopefully, the jury will take that into consideration." He sat back down. The young woman sat back in her seat with a sigh.

* * *

The brunette slumped down the hallway of the courthouse, her attorney at her side.

"200 hours of community service?"

"Be grateful. You could've ended up in a woman's correctional facility."

"For an accident? No one got ran over. I'm not even at fault here. It was that son-of-a-bitch's fault." The girl crooked her hands and choked the air. "If I ever get my hands on him..."

The lawyer put his hand up. "I think it's better you didn't. The jury might not show leniency for first-degree murder."

"What about self-defense? I was defending myself against character assassination."

The lawyer rolled his eyes.

"So, what am I doing? Picking up trash by the side of the road? Bathing the homeless? Swimming with dolphins at Marineland?"

"Nice try. It's some kind of youth center in Toronto."

The young woman paled.

"Is there a chance that I could bathe some homeless people? I mean, I'm sure they wouldn't mind some attention from a beautiful girl."

"Right. The judge pulled up your file. You're _from_ Toronto, aren't you?"

"Kitchener."

"Close enough."

The girl got down on her knees, assuming a begging stance. "Isn't there something I can do?"

"I'm sensing you have history there?"

"You're very good."

"Good enough to keep you out of jail." The lawyer glanced down at the girl, who was crying a little. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Look, whatever you're running from can't be all that bad. Who knows? You might find something there that you've been looking for."

The girl shrugged. "I guess." She rose to her feet and smiled coquettishly. "You know, maybe you and I could continue this chat over lattes and maybe dinner."

The lawyer laughed a little. "Sorry, but you're not my type."

The girl gazed at him indignantly. "Not your type? What are you, gay?"

"Well, yes, actually."

The girl blushed bright red. "I didn't know."

"Don't sweat it. You're not the first, and you're probably not the last." The girl sat down on a bench. The lawyer parked it next to her. "Look, your faulty gaydar aside, you seem like a good person."

The girl stared in disbelief. It was a long time since anyone referred to her as 'a good person'. "Do you watch 'Total Drama'?"

"No. My boyfriend tried like hell to turn me on to it, but I'm not into reality shows."

"But you know of me?"

"All that crap is staged and re-edited to within an inch of its life. I doubt you're as bad as that show makes you out to be."

The girl blanched, but the lawyer made a good point: was she as bad as the show made her look?

"You want my advice?"

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Nope. What you've done isn't as important as what you can do. Before you know it, the 200 hours will be up like that and you can get back to your life."

The girl started to smile in relief. The moment lasted three seconds before she retreated into despair.

"What's wrong?"

"Sooner or later, my mom's gonna find out. You probably haven't heard of her."

* * *

"_Up next, on 'Real Housewives of Vancouver'…"_

A quartet of fortyish women in designer dresses sat around an outdoor café. Despite the setting, they all seemed to be in argument mode, their fancy salads wilting by the second.

A woman whose hair was as blonde as her skin was bronzed pointed a finger at the others. "I don't think you're getting it."

"Don't tell me what I'm not getting, "whined a brunette through Botoxed lips.

"You are all jealous!", the redhead blurted out, thrusting out her enhanced breasts.

One of the women - a scrappy, dark-haired firebrand - leapt from her seat. "That is so childish!"

* * *

The girl threw open the door to her hotel room. She wiped away sweat from her brow. Exercising in the gym was a pastime she indulged in during downtime.

The phone on her bed buzzed. A few buzzes later, the girl begrudgingly picked up.

A phone to her ear, the girl extended her leg onto the bed and stretched forward. She didn't look happy.

"_What is this about you crashing a car and getting community service?"_ The tone of the woman's voice let anyone within earshot hear that she was very much the same person off-screen.

"Mom, it's a frame-up. Don't you watch any movies?"

"_The last one I saw that was any good was _Marley and Me_. That poor puppy."_

"Mom, focus!" The girl switched legs and continued to stretch.

"_On you? That worked out so well the first time."_

"I really don't feel like arguing."

"_Then why did you call? By the way, just what do you have to do?"_

"It's a youth center in Toronto."

"_You taking care of children?_" The girl's mother started to laugh. _"Good luck!"_ The laughter resumed with more force.

With a snarl, the girl hung up.

* * *

The girl's arrival at the youth center was greeted with a passel of photographers. She shielded her eyes to hide her shame…and to protect from the blinding flash of the cameras.

She muscled past the photogs and fell into the center, landing at the feet of a scowling old woman: Mrs. Halloway. At five feet, she was as bitter as she was short.

The girl looked up. "So, you must be the new girl?" The rasp in her voice was noticeable.

"Yes."

"Well, you can't spend all day on the floor." The girl stood up. Mrs. Halloway glanced past her and toward the photographer who wormed his way through the front door.

He snapped a number of shots on his phone, even as the older woman was approaching him.

"Whatever you want to say to her, you can say to me and Mr. Remington." She pulled up the front of her shirt, revealing a gun handle tucked down the front of her shorts.

The photographer backed toward the door and hurried out. Mrs. Halloway picked up his phone.

The girl glanced at Mrs. Halloway. An impressed smirk crossed her face. "A loaded gun in a youth center. Nice."

"Watch it, girlie. This thing hasn't been fired since the Civil War. If it still works, I'd be very impressed."

* * *

"…and here is the girl's changing room. You'll have to look in on the girls, make sure there's no horseplay." The girl glanced in on the gymnasium. The kids were engaged in a game of dodge ball. _"Girlie…"_

The girl turned back around. "Me?"

"No, I mean Lady Di. Come on."

* * *

"…and this is where the balls are. Football, dodge ball, baseball, stickball…"

The girl exhaled.

"…thus concluding the tour. Any questions?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't be doing this alone, would I?"

"Of course not. There are other counselors, as well as kids your own age here for college credit." Miss Halloway led the girl toward the gym. "You'll need to get changed, of course."

* * *

The girl stepped inside the gym. Her street clothes replaced with regulation T-shirt and shorts. Her short hair tied back with a rubber band. Her punishment had barely started and she was already hating it.

**[1d, 0h, 10m, 34s]**

She took a seat on the bleachers and folded her arms. Her eyes darted around at the kids tossing balls at each other.

She glanced at a figure behind her. He was buried in a book: "The Picture of Dorian Gray".

He took the book away long enough to turn the page. That little second was all the girl needed to register shock at seeing who was sitting a couple rows up from her.

"Noah?"

The young man set the book aside and glanced in the direction of the person calling his name. The surprise on her face was nothing compared to his at seeing her.

"Heather?"


	2. Acclimation

The brunette stared in shock. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Volunteering." Noah sized her up before returning to his book.

"You're not gonna ask what I'm doing here?"

"Community service", Noah stated without even looking up. "It really doesn't take CSI to figure that out."

Heather folded her arms and scowled as only she could.

"_Oh my God! It's Heather!"_

The gym floor was busy with girls engaged in a volleyball game, one that would be left in the air when one of the girls glanced toward the bleachers. The girls crowded around Heather, whose mood lifted at the attention.

Noah, however, rolled his eyes.

A girl in glasses and braces - whose resemblance to Beth was not lost on either of the young adults - worked her way to the front of the crowd. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know, just…hanging around."

A much girlier girl approached Heather. "Any chance of Alejandro coming by? He's so hot."

Heather gritted her teeth, but maintained a somewhat pleasant tone. "No. He's…busy."

Noah lowered his book, intrigued (for the first time since her arrival) by Heather's news.

"Oh, can't Alejandro visit?", the girls erupted in a chorus.

Noah crooked his head, assumed a begging pose and asked in a mocking tone of voice, "Yeah. Can't Alejandro visit?"

"No, he can't", Heather seethed through clenched teeth.

The girls groaned in disappointment. Noah returned to his book, a slight smile on his face.

* * *

**[1d - 1h, 45m, 33s]**

Heather stared at the vending machine, frustrated. 'Aero, Smarties, Cadbury Crunchie, Crispy Crunch, Mr. Big… Don't they have any healthy snacks here?', she thought to herself.

"_You actually hooked up with Alejandro?"_

Heather turned to the doorway. Noah walked in and took a seat. Heather merely regarded him with a 'Oh, it's _you_' expression.

"You don't use the internet, do you?"

"People letting millions of strangers know when they last took a crap and 'liking' pictures of their cats. I doubt I'm missing much."

Heather laughed a small chuckle. "Maybe, it's just as well. You don't want to know what people say about you."

"Brilliant deduction, mainly because I don't care."

"You don't care what they say about you and Cody? After all, he's not online, either."

"Is that supposed to get a rise out of me?"

"When that happens, you will know."

Heather took a seat across from him.

"Anyway, yes, Alejandro and I were once an item."

Noah blinked. "So, when someone told you to go screw yourself, you actually took it to heart?"

"We never screwed, number one and number two, at least I had someone to share my life with, unlike you, a know-it-all, snarky assh-"

Noah quickly pointed toward the door. The words died in Heather's throat at seeing a young, slightly chubby girl standing in the doorway.

"-matic."

"What do you need?" Noah regarded the girl with a warm tone, one that took Heather by surprise, if only for a second.

"Mrs. Halloway is looking for you two."

Heather shoved her way past Noah as she exited the break room. The little girl looked on as Noah shook his head.

* * *

Heather put on her best fake smile as she sat down. "You wanted to see me, Mrs. Halloway?"

The older woman shrugged. "Shouldn't we wait until Noah gets here?"

"I mean, if we _have_ to…"

Noah took a seat. Much to his chagrin, the only available one was next to Heather. "You wanted to see me, Mrs. Halloway?"

"Yes. There's a group of children that needs strong leaders. Leaders of moral character and grit."

Noah exhaled. He knew what was coming.

"Unfortunately, they were all available, so I'm down to the two of you."

Heather spoke up. "That seems a little-"

"I've watched 'Total Drama Island', 'Total Drama Action' and 'Total Drama World Tour'. I know what I'm talking about. The truth is that these kids are the most troublesome ones here. I think you'll like them", the woman said with a sinister smile.

* * *

If one were watching television, one would find it hard not to recognize the flashy graphics of 'Celebrity Manhunt' returning from a commercial break.

Standing in the studio, Blaineley wore a red dress and her best fake showbiz smile. "Welcome back to 'Celebrity Manhunt'. The latest chapter in Total Drama's tome of infamy has been written by the show's resident firebrand, Heather. Her recent car accident landed her 200 hours of community service."

With the legend 'File footage' at the bottom of the screen, cameras and microphones are shoved in Heather's face as she exits the courtroom. She covers her face; clearly not a point of pride.

"_We were unable to get any comment from her."_

"Her unfortunate passenger and ex-boyfriend, 'Total Drama World Tour' runner-up Alejandro, had this to say:"

Alejandro, sitting in a chair, exhaled, as if trying to hold back tears. "I don't blame Heather for my injuries or the immense emotional trauma I've suffered." He sighed dramatically. "All I want is to move on…and, hopefully, Heather can get the help she so drastically needs."

"So brave." The hostess infused the two words with more melancholy than they probably deserved, a skill that was not foreign to her. "We'll bring you more information on this story as it becomes available."

* * *

**[1d - 3h, 11m, 45s]**

Heather and Noah stood in front of a group of six tweens; three boys and three girls. Clipboard in hand, Heather checked the list.

"Leland?"

A glasses-wearing boy shuffled forward. "Here."

"Tiffany?"

A girly-girl daintily raised her hand. "Present."

"Fisher?"

A kid ran his fingers along the flame from a lighter. He snapped it shut at hearing his name. "Oh, right. Here."

"Margo?"

The chubby girl from earlier stepped forward. "Here."

"June?"

A Goth girl with pale skin and icy blue eyes snorted at hearing her name. "Here", she snapped.

"Corey?"

"Here", stated the voice of a boy who seemed a little too out of it.

"Well, that's everyone. Now, the first thing we need to do-"

Heather put up her hand. "Question?"

"Yes?"

"Who put you in charge?"

"No one, but since I've been here longer-"

"I'm the one holding the clipboard, so clearly, I'm leading this group."

Noah snatched the clipboard away. "Huh. I guess I'm the leader." The charges glanced back and forth, as if watching a tennis match.

Heather snatched it back. "And I guess I'm more athletically equipped. Too bad you can't stand idly by and snark at everyone. You're a natural."

"Well, we can't all be as talented as you. Crashing cars and shirking responsibility. You're a real role model. No wonder you're here."

Noah waited for a scathing comeback, but one never came. Instead, Heather dropped the clipboard and ran off, tears in her eyes.

Margo stepped forward. "Don't you think you went too far?"

Noah scoffed. "I doubt it. If that…show has taught me anything, it's that Heather loves a production."

Down the hall, the door slammed. Noah slowly approached the door, which led to the women's restroom.

Noah leaned against the wall. "Ah, yes, it starts with the grand gesture." Whimpering could be heard from within. "Followed closely by the appeal for sympathy. This has two parts."

Suddenly, the whimper turned into a wail.

"The second part: crocodile tears. We're all very impressed."

Noah's remark was met with another wail, much louder than before. The kids started to talk amongst themselves in a worried, hushed tone. Noah's satisfied smirk fell off of his face, leaving a remorseful frown.

Noah cracked the door open, careful not to look inside. "Heather, come on out, please. I'm…I'm sorry."

The door slammed, nearly crushing Noah's fingers.

"Look, we're supposed to look after these kids and I can't do it alone." A deep sigh. "I need you."

"_Why?"_ Heather's voice was strained a little from crying.

"Because you're far more athletic than I am."

"_And?"_

"And skilled and…limber and talented…"

"_And 'because I suck at most things'."_

"I beg your pardon?"

"_You heard me."_

Noah sighed. "Because I suck at most things."

"_Like you mean it"_, Heather sing-songed.

"Because I suck at most things", he said, forcefully.

Heather opened the bathroom door and wiped tears from her face. Noah was struck by how she looked. Her tears made her look…human. Had this been the bitchy queen bee who helped make things so unendurable for the other contestants?

Noah was broken out of his reverie when Heather wiped her tear-stained arms on his shirt. Heather took a deep breath. "Okay, so what are we doing first?"

* * *

**[1d - 3h, 36m, 22s]**

Noah and Heather dragged the sack of dodge balls out of the equipment room. Noah couldn't hide how dismayed he felt about this choice of game, something that Heather picked up on quickly.

"Stop sulking. You're the one who let me choose the first activity."

"Only because you were crying your eyes out in the girls' room."

"Well, I can't help it if you're weak-willed." Heather pulled out a dodgeball and held it aloft. "Okay, boys and girls, this is dodgeball."

Tiffany raised her hand. "Dodgeball? Where we throw balls at each other? Would it help me get out of this if I showed you a doctor's note?"

Heather rolled her eyes. 'Lindsay would love this girl', she thought to herself. "Okay, boys versus girls."

Noah begrudgingly emptied the sack, spilling the balls in front of the youths.

Heather bounced a ball to Corey, who expertly caught it with his stomach. "Last one standing wins."

Fisher shrugged. "What do we win?"

"The ability to brag about surviving getting smacked with balls", Noah deadpanned.

"That's not much of a prize."

Noah shrugged. "This isn't much of a game."

Heather rolled her eyes. "Anyway, let's get started."

Fisher, Corey and Leland took places on one side of the gym, while June, Tiffany and Margo faced them from the other.

June picked up a ball and glanced down at it. Corey started to chuckle. "Geez, Lady Dracula, you gonna throw that or stare at it?"

The Goth girl hurled the ball at Corey, showcasing a surprisingly strong throwing arm. The ball connected with his groin, causing him to fall to his knees.

"That would make you out." June's celebration was short-lived, as Fisher launched a ball at her, hitting her legs.

"Looks like _you're_ out, Morticia." Fisher focused on the other two girls left. June pouted as she took a seat on the bleachers, sitting a row below Corey.

Fisher sized up his opponents. He knew Margo from school and, despite her weight, she was quick on her feet. Tiffany, meanwhile, was hardly the type to make any movements, which might result in sweat.

The fire bug shrugged his shoulders; may as well give the priss what she wants. He hurled the ball at the wall behind the girls. Margo leapt out of the way, but Tiffany flinched and stood like a statue. The ball bounced off of the wall and hit Tiffany in the butt.

With a squeak, Tiffany stomped toward the bleachers.

Fisher and Leland each picked up a ball and locked eyes with Margo, who picked up the ball that outed Tiffany.

Noah and Heather watched as Margo faked left, keeping the boys on their toes. Leland chucked his ball at her. Margo seemed to scoop it out of the air and held it aloft.

Leland slunk toward the bleachers. Fisher's eyes narrowed. Making a last-ditch effort, he threw the ball at Margo.

Margo ducked it and tossed her ball at Fisher. The ball struck him in the chest, knocking him down.

With a whoop, the slightly chubby girl began jumping for joy. After a few jumps, she stood in place. Her breathing became irregular.

Noah leapt to his feet. Margo sunk to her knees, her breathing having devolved into wheezing.

"Where's your inhaler?"

Margo pointed toward the exit as best as she could given her current situation.

Noah took off like a shot toward the door.

Heather set Margo down to the floor. She glanced up at Noah. "What am I supposed to do?", she called.

"Make sure she's comfortable!"

* * *

Noah rushed around the center, peeking in every room. He hurried by the break room, but returned to it.

On the table, it sat: Margo's inhaler.

* * *

Noah ran to the gym, sliding toward Margo. He handed her the inhaler. She gave herself a puff.

The other kids breathed a sigh of relief as her breathing returned to normal.

Heather patted her back. "Are you all right?"

"I am now."

Noah sighed. "Margo, why didn't you have your inhaler?"

"I'm sorry. I must've left it there when I went to get you. Besides, I heard there was an asthmatic in the break room and figured…"

Noah and Heather shared a guilty look, which reminded them of their earlier argument.

"Okay, that's enough dodgeball." Heather held up Margo's arm. "I'm proud to say that the girl's team wins!"

The girls let out a cheer.

Heather turned to Noah. "So…what do we do next?"


	3. Consternation

**[2d - 8h, 05m, 44s]**

The pungent smell of chlorine stung at Noah's nostrils. He'd never been much for swimming, or swim class, for that matter.

Still, the charges had to learn, sooner or later. They each sat on the bleachers.

Tiffany raised her hand. "When are we getting started?"

"Just waiting on Heather." Noah rolled his eyes. He was upset, not only at having to handle the kids by himself but that she would think herself above being on time.

He tugged at the rental trunks he was wearing. Though relieved that they were clean, he still had a weird feeling about them.

"_Well, I'm here."_

"No 'sorry I'm late'", he muttered under his breath. "Well, doesn't that stand to reason, the-"

Noah's words died in his throat when he got a look at Heather. She was wearing a black two-piece swimsuit. To be precise, it was a black, two-piece string bikini, only barely keeping her covered.

The boys in the group couldn't take their eyes off of her. Noah, however, was lost in a world of his own; a world where Heather strutted toward him, a half-smile on her face, the bikini showing off every curve of her lithe body, which was a testament to the power of good living and-

"You know, a picture is less likely to kick you in the face."

Her harsh words snapped Noah back to reality in a split second. She turned to the children, less of an edge in her voice.

"Okay, now the important thing to remember when you're in the water is to kick your legs and when you stretch your right arm out, look left and when your left arm is out, look right."

Heather continued to talk, her voice sounding more and more far off with every word. Much as Noah would never admit it within her earshot, she looked damned good in that bikini.

Noah took two steps forward. Unfortunately, at that moment, he was facing the swimming pool.

A loud splash drew the attention of Heather and the charges.

Noah had just walked into the deep end.

The youths talked nervously amongst themselves. Heather turned to them. "Okay, has anyone here taken swimming lessons? Anyone know CPR?"

"No", the kids chorused as they shook their heads.

"Just checking." She dove into the water toward her former fellow contestant.

The kids watched as Heather grabbed Noah, carrying him to the surface. She pulled herself on the edge of the pool.

"A little help?"

Margo walked up to the edge of the pool. Heather handed her Noah's arm. With Heather pushing, Margo pulled Noah onto the edge.

Heather pinched Noah's nose and blew into his mouth. She crossed her hands and pushed down on his heart. She blew into his mouth again.

Noah coughed, spitting water into Heather's mouth.

"Noah!" Margo hugged him. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah", he said, still somewhat weak.

He glanced up at Heather, who shrugged. "So, is this your way of telling me to handle swimming lessons myself?"

* * *

Noah sat on the bleachers for the duration of the lesson. Despite his insistence that he was fine, Heather told him to "step aside".

The kids got out of the water, talking excitedly amongst themselves.

"Make sure you get clean", Heather called out. "Nobody wants to smell like a swimming pool." She turned to Noah, hands on her hips. "I'd have thought that someone named Noah would be less…drowny."

Noah opened his mouth to return the verbal serve, but the best his brain could come up with was 'I'd have thought that someone named Heather would be growing in a Scottish field". Thinking better of it, he closed his mouth.

"You better towel off. I think Miss Gulch wants to see you."

* * *

**[2d - 10h, 16m, 54s]**

Heather, back in her uniform, passed by the break room. Noah sat in a chair nursing a can of Canada Dry.

"Get into much trouble?"

Noah cleared his throat. "'It doesn't do very much good to teach kids swimming if you can't do it yourself'", he said in a mockingly dead-on impression of Mrs. Halloway.

"On the nose", Heather mused as she took a seat. "And have you seen that gun of hers? 'It hasn't been fired since the Civil War'." Her impression, while carrying the right tone, didn't quite match the cadence as Noah's had.

"Well, she would know."

Heather chortled. This caught Noah by surprise. He was sure he'd never heard her laugh before and, if he had, nothing in their history would suggest to him that her laughter could be so…girlish, uninhibited and almost innocent.

Noah stared at the girl. 'Huh. The ice queen has a heart, after all', he thought to himself.

Heather stopped laughing and, in the split second between that and Noah shaking his head, she could swear that he was staring at her.

"Thanks for saving me."

Heather half-shrugged, half-ticced. "Sure."

"When did you even learn CPR?"

"They taught it to us one gym class in grade 7. I didn't think I'd ever have to use it."

Noah took another sip.

"Besides, it wouldn't look good to let you drown in front of the kids."

"So, if the kids weren't around, you'd have let me drown?"

Heather scowled. "I guess we'll never find out, will we?" She stomped off. Noah exhaled before finishing his soda.

* * *

Airports made most people nervous. Waiting in long lines for tickets, the security, the worry that something would happen to their luggage and traveling to an unfamiliar place, to say nothing of the potentially dangerous means of conveyance.

Alejandro, though, was cool as a cucumber as he waited in line. His luggage was safe, he passed through security with no problems and he was on his way to the flight. The only hiccup?

"I can't believe you booked me on this gig." Alejandro had his phone to his ear as he moved toward the flight gate.

"_You have to crawl before you can walk and walk before you can run."_

"But this is so ridiculous. Some rinky-dink competition?"

"_They always need celebrity judges. Things go well here, who knows where you could end up? TV shows, movies…Geminis."_ Alejandro perked up at this.

"Okay. You talked me into it."

"_I'm an agent. It's what I do."_

Alejandro pocketed his phone. He stepped up to the counter and handed his ticket to the airline worker. "There you are, Miss."

The young woman blushed. "Thank you", she said as she scanned his ticket. He smiled at her, further shattering her resolve.

* * *

Noah sat in the passenger seat. The pretty Indian woman behind the wheel spoke with a somewhat pronounced accent. "All I'm saying is that it wouldn't hurt to learn how to drive."

"Sure, but-"

"You could get around on your own." She shrugged. "Wouldn't have to depend on me all the time."

"Are you really playing the guilt card-?"

"I'm plainly speaking a fact. Teenagers like to drive themselves around. Parents tend to cramp their social life."

Noah opened his mouth to speak.

"You know what I mean."

"There'll be plenty of time for that."

"Yes, Mr. College-man."

The woman pulled the car into the driveway.

"By the way, something came in the mail for you today."

"What kind of something?"

"I'll tell you went we get inside."

"You really couldn't tell me now?"

"That would ruin the surprise."

She hurried for the front door, followed by Noah. Once inside, she handed him an envelope, which he carefully opened.

"'Dear Mr. Ellison. We are pleased to inform you that your selection, 'Over My Shoulder', is a finalist in the Ottawa Poetry Competition'."

"Isn't this wonderful?"

"It is."

Dahlia hugged her son.

* * *

Heather stuck her key in the electronic lock. She entered her suite and flopped down on the queen-sized mattress of her bed. She took a long sigh. Clearly, she was in the mood to relax.

The peace and quiet lasted a good ten seconds before her phone rang. With a groan, she rolled over and answered it.

"Hello?"

"_Well, hello. Enjoying your hotel room?"_

"It could be bigger, but I'm doing fine."

"_It simply wouldn't do to have you living on the street…even if you deserve it a little."_

Heather rolled her eyes. _"So, how's community service?"_

"It's just fine. Just fine."

"_Is it really, because if I know you, you'd rather be living it up in some night club."_

"Ever consider that maybe, you don't know me so well?"

"_What else do I need to know?"_

"Did you call for a reason?"

"_Just to say hello…and to tell you that, whenever I want, I can stop payment on the hotel room. You need to ask yourself: 'is there anyone I can stay with here?'."_

Heather had been through a lot; enduring the challenges, dealing with failure. However, she had never been as upset as she was at this moment.

"_Heather, you still there?"_

"Yes", the girl replied, a heavy sigh in her throat.

"_Good. I'd hate to think that you hung up because of something I said. Well, bye." _

Heather threw the phone across the room. It shattered upon hitting the floor, but she was so angry, it could've mattered less to her.

She picked up the remote and turned on the television. She flipped through the channels, stopping on one that featured Alejandro.

He looked penitent, but she could tell it was an act.

"_All I want is to move on…and, hopefully, Heather can get the help she so drastically needs."_

If Heather was angry with her mother, she was downright livid with the young man who was once her boyfriend. She stabbed the 'off' button and threw the remote in the wastebasket.

She rolled over and picked up the room phone.

"_Front desk."_

"Yeah, I'm gonna need the shuttle."


	4. Excavation

The Copper Chimney. Long considered to be one of the jewels of Toronto's Indian food restaurants.

Noah opened the door of his mother's Impala and set the bag of food on the floor.

"Smells good."

"It ought to. We're celebrating." Dahlia started the car. "I can't wait to get this home."

The car made its way down the street. Glancing idly out the window, Noah saw a figure duck into Harvey's just a couple blocks up.

Because of his upbringing, Noah had never eaten there and, despite occasional pangs of curiosity, had no desire to.

Still, curiosity was bringing him back to the somewhat feminine figure that was looking around to see if the coast was clear.

"Mom, stop the car."

"Why?"

"Please."

With a sigh, Dahlia pulled the car over and cut the engine.

"Noah, what is going on?"

"I just need to check something. Five minutes, I promise." Noah kissed his mother's cheek and closed the door.

* * *

The usual flow of customers in Harvey's had slowed to a trickle as it drew nearer to closing time.

The figure was pleased at this, for a) they didn't want to be bothered and b) they just wanted to get their food and get out.

She (and with her legs, how could it not be a 'she'?) was cloaked in sunglasses and a handkerchief draped over her head.

"Welcome to Harvey's. May I take your order?", the girl at the counter said.

"Yeah. I'd like a grilled chicken burger on a whole wheat bun, extra pickles, a side of frings and a regular Diet Pepsi."

Noah perked up a little as he entered the establishment. He definitely recognized that voice.

Taking big strides, Noah tapped the woman on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, Miss."

The woman jumped out of her skin. Her glasses flew off, revealing…

"Heather? I never expected this."

"Lower your voice!"

"Fine," he responded in a whisper. "What brings you here?"

"A girl can't enjoy dinner in peace?"

"A girl like you and food like this?"

Heather snorted. She turned back to the cashier. "Any chance you can put a rush on this?"

"Certainly. That'll be $8.77."

Heather dug a ten-dollar bill from her pocket. She handed it to the cashier and turned to Noah, a withering scowl on her face.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm not here for the food."

She put her hands on her hips. "Way to not answer my question. What are you doing here?"

"I saw you come in."

"So, you're stalking me, now?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

Heather turned back to the counter. "ETA on the food?!"

"_Soon!"_

As irritated as she's ever been, Heather stepped to the side. She pulled out a cell phone and dialed on it.

"_One King West Hotel."_

"Heather. I need a shuttle to the Harvey's on Avenue ten minutes ago."

"_I'm not sure we can do that. It _is_ pretty late."_

"I was dropped off down here fifteen minutes ago. I'm sure I can be picked up."

"_I really don't-"_

"Do you think my mother would appreciate this shabby treatment of one of your guests?"

There was a momentary silence on the other end. A smile formed on Heather's face. This was a typical refrain whenever the staff was slow to comply to her requests.

"_We'll be there right away."_

"That's what I thought you said." Heather hung up. Her cat-that-ate-the-canary smirk melted away as she turned to see Noah looking at her.

"You're staying in a hotel?"

"Not a crime, last I checked."

"_Your food is ready."_

Heather, not taking her eyes off of Noah, stepped to the counter and grabbed her Diet Pepsi with one hand and the bag of food with the other.

"I think I can trust everyone here not to tell the media about this?"

The kids behind the counter murmured assent. She turned to Noah.

"What would I have to gain from ratting you out?"

Heather allowed a withering gaze to stand in for a verbal answer as she disappeared out the door.

The girl at the counter glanced at Noah. She squinted, as if trying to process his appearance.

"Weren't you on 'Total Drama'?"

Noah shrugged a little. "No." He exited the restaurant.

* * *

As Noah approached his mother's car, he saw a car pull off in the opposite direction. 'That must've been her ride', he mused to himself.

"_Noah!"_

He jumped at hearing his mother's voice. Noah settled into the passenger's seat and buckled up.

"So, did you find what you were looking for?"

"Kind of, yeah."

"You weren't spoiling your dinner, by any chance, were you?"

"Of course not."

Dahlia adjusted her mirrors. "By the way, I saw a girl hurry out of that restaurant. Do you know her?"

"Somewhat."

* * *

As much as he admired the hotel room in which he was put up (which gave him a good view of the Ottawa skyline), Alejandro was having a better time down at the hotel bar.

The girls there swarmed all over him, as he expected; apparently, they eagerly watched 'World Tour'.

His gaze focused on a young woman sitting alone at a table and sipping a Shirley Temple. Her shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair and thick-rimmed glasses were truly at odds with each other; she wasn't quite a looker, but not quite a nerd, either.

Alejandro, putting on his most sincere fake smile, sauntered over to the young woman. "Is this seat taken?"

"I wasn't really expect-" Before the woman could finish, Alejandro sat next to her.

"I'm in town on business; pretty important."

"That's odd." The woman took another sip. "I don't recall asking why you were here."

"I'm sure it would've come up, sooner or later." Alejandro took a look at her beverage. "What are you having?"

"A Shirley Temple."

He laughed a little. "What are you, a little girl?"

"You didn't ask, but I'm also in town on business. I'd like to have a clear head."

"And what brings you here?"

The woman took a few moments to think about whether she should tell him. She shrugged 'why not?'; it's not like she'd be seeing him again. "Judging a poetry competition."

"No shit! Me too."

The woman paled, the thought of 'Please, God, let this be a joke' repeating over and over in her head. She pounded her drink down as if it were something stronger.

"Looks like we'll be spending a lot of time together. What floor are you on?"

"Thirteen." The woman rushed away.

Alejandro thought to himself. "There is no thirteenth floor!", he called after her. He shrugged his shoulders. 'Ah, what the hell? I'll be seeing her again'.

* * *

One King West Hotel. It loomed pretty large in Downtown Toronto. At least, that's what Noah thought when he looked up at it.

Noah made his way to the entrance, but stopped mere steps from the door; was he really going into a hotel he's never been to just to see what kind of living arrangement Heather had?

He glanced over at a bellhop struggling to pull a luggage cart through the door. Noah hurried over and opened the door for him.

"Gee, thanks, mister."

"You're welcome." As the bellhop took the cart in, Noah trailed behind him, doing his best not to draw too much attention to himself.

As the cart neared the elevator, Noah turned to two maids who were passing another.

"You hear about that girl in 607? Almost made Carla cry."

"Yeah. I thought she was bad on the show."

"Most of those TV girls are."

Noah slipped toward a crowd of people gathering onto an elevator. His heart beat so fast, echoing in his brain, that he wasn't even sure if he heard anyone in the lobby asking who he was, or if he even belonged in the hotel.

* * *

The elevator stopped at the sixth floor. Among the four people left in the car, Noah was the only one to disembark.

Noah glanced around at the pristine condition of the floor; clean and quiet. He stopped at 607 and studied the door.

A 'Do Not Disturb' sign hung around the door. 'Of course, she'd want her privacy', Noah thought to himself.

His train of thought continued. He removed the 'Do Not Disturb' sign from the knob. This was a trick he picked up from a detective story he once read. His thinking was that, if it worked, he'd get to see how Heather was living. If not, maybe her room could do with a cleaning.

Noah hurried around the corner, so as not to be detected. Heather was in for the surprise of her life…

* * *

Heather laid face down on a table, a masseuse giving her a rubdown. Her moans suggested an influx of tension that was leaving her body.

Her lips tugged into a smile. It'd been too long since she felt this good.

* * *

Noah checked his watch. 45 minutes had gone by. He turned around the corner. A maid's cart sat at the end of the hall.

He sighed. 'Finally'.

The maid came out of a room at the far end. She pushed the cart along, passing a number of doors. She stopped at 607 and opened the door with a red master key. Noah gazed on as the maid entered.

As the door closed, Noah darted around the corner and hid behind the cleaning cart.

A minute later, the maid emerged, dirty towels in hand. She dumped them into the bag and grabbed three fresh folded towels. She disappeared into the room.

Five more minutes passed before the maid returned to the cart. Noah slunk around the back of the maid and stuck his foot in the door before it closed.

He leapt into 607 and the door closed. The maid glanced behind her, almost certain she heard something. She shrugged and continued to push the cart.

* * *

Noah glanced around. He was almost expecting a penthouse suite. This was…rather average. A queen-sized bed, a minibar, a closet and a television sitting on a dresser. Pretty standard, really.

Noah collapsed onto the edge of the bed. He hadn't thought this far ahead in his plan. He was kind of expecting Heather to be here, so he could barge in and grill her about why she's living in a hotel.

That she wasn't made for kind of a dent in his planning.

His gaze stopped near the dresser. Out of curiosity, he opened the top drawer. He found a number of papers turned over. He walked over to the bed and glanced them over.

'_Dear Gwen…'_

Noah was a little taken aback by the heading, but he continued on.

'…_reading another girl's diary to the world and kissing your guy...violates all tenets of girl code. This may not mean much to you, but I really am-'_

Noah almost couldn't read the next word. Could ice queen Heather really experience the capacity to feel…?

'…_sorry.'_

Noah flipped through the rest of the sheets. In addition to Gwen, there were letters addressed to Beth, Leshawna and Lindsay.

The letter to Lindsay was three pages long. Flipping through it, Noah noticed that the ink was smeared on the second page, almost like water fell on it…or tears.

'The ice queen has a heart after all', he mused to himself.

Noah jumped at hearing the whirr of the electronic key in the door lock. He stuffed the letters in the upper drawer of the dresser.

The door opened. Heather wiped the sweat off of her brow with a towel. She tossed the towel on the bed.

The closet door was cracked open…and Noah glanced out from within.

Heather plopped down on the bed, sighing.

Noah breathed a quiet sigh himself. He really didn't want to get caught in this crazy situation.

'If I get out of this without Heather finding me, I'll never sneak into a hotel again.'

This had been the weirdest Saturday he ever experienced.


	5. Renumeration

Monday morning had come. Noah sat in his subway seat, the events of the weekend fresh in his mind.

It was lucky for him that Heather was such a heavy sleeper. Otherwise, he might have still been in that closet.

Even more than that were the letters. He didn't have a clue that there might actually be a decent person beneath the scheming and scowls.

The train rolled to a stop. A handful of passengers, including Noah, got off.

Noah glanced up the street. Heather stepped out of the One King West Hotel shuttle. Flashing lights dogged her every step.

She sprinted to the front door of the youth center and shut it behind her.

Noah walked toward the front door. The paparazzi dispersed, clearly not interested. On the one hand, he was relieved that they stayed out of his business. On the other…no, he was happy not to be bothered.

* * *

**[3d, 16h, 3m, 52s]**

Having changed from his street clothes into gym attire, Noah walked into the gymnasium. The sight that met his eyes was an unusual one.

The bleachers were pulled out, like a barre in a ballet class.

Each of the charges had a leg on the bleachers, stretching around.

Fisher groaned a little. "I feel ridiculous."

Heather walked by. "Everyone does, at first, but you'll get over that."

"Good morning."

"Hello. I was just leading the kids in a good stretch, unless you have some objection to that."

"Not at all."

If only for a moment, Heather was taken aback. Noah had answered her without a tone in his voice. Was he even capable of speaking like that?

"Ooookay, then."

"_And what's going on in here?"_

All eyes turned toward Mrs. Halloway.

"Oh. I just thought I'd try something different with the kids."

The old woman turned to Noah. "And where were you?"

"I just got here."

"Well, Mr. 'I just got here', you and Madame Baryshnikov need to know that all activities are to be vetted by me."

Heather stepped forward. "It wouldn't hurt for the kids to learn this. It's good exercise."

"…and I didn't approve of this." Mrs. Halloway stomped off.

Noah scowled. "No surprise you're not into girly stuff", he said quietly. However, it was loud enough to be heard by Heather, who tittered a little.

She turned to the kids. "Keep at it."

Noah turned around…and walked right into Heather.

"Yes?"

"How does it feel not being man enough to say something to somebody's face?"

"Walk away and I'll tell you."

"Do you have a punching bag here? Like one of the big ones?"

"I think so. Mrs. Halloway had it put in the basement. The kids couldn't use it without getting hurt. Why?"

"We're going on a field trip. Just the two of us."

"And what about the kids?"

"Continue your stretching."

"What if Halloway comes back?", June piped in.

"Just play freeze tag, or something."

* * *

Heather followed Noah down the stairs into the basement. The dank smell hit the both of them as they stopped on the landing. She flipped the lights on, revealing a room of outdated exercise equipment.

In the corner, the heavy bag hung from the ceiling. Not far from it was a shelf with boxing gloves on it.

"Why are we in here?"

"For the inevitable day when you say something to someone's back loud enough that they turn around and punch you, I think it'd help to be prepared."

"One, I'd never be that sloppy, and two, _you_ don't need this at all?"

Heather pulled on a pair of boxing gloves and landed a few shots on the heavy bag.

"Not really, no."

She doffed the gloves and tossed them to Noah. He reluctantly put them on.

Heather stood behind the bag, holding it steady. "Hit it."

"Do I have to?"

"Hey, if you can't do it…"

Noah rolled his eyes. He gave the bag a tap.

"How does it feel to know that any of the kids could hit harder?"

He scowled at her.

"Try to picture someone who's hurt you; someone who's made you feel like less than a man…someone who _isn't_ me."

"How'd-?"

"You have to ask?"

With a shrug of 'I guess not', Noah landed a decent hit.

"Harder."

Noah obliged with another hit.

"Harder! This guy kidnapped the love of your life. Can't you imagine the things he plans to do to her?"

Noah's punches continued, somewhat erratically as he wasn't used to hitting things.

"And he isn't going to stop there. He's coming for your family, next."

Noah yelled as he landed a solid haymaker to the bag. Heather, surprised by the force of the punch, let go of the bag and stumbled back a little.

The bag swung back, knocking Noah to the floor.

Heather extended her hand to him. "Not bad, killer." She pulled him to his feet.

Noah exhaled. "Thanks."

* * *

The two teens walked up the stairs, an odd silence between them. Feeling uncomfortable with the silence, Noah blurted out the first thing that came to mind:

"So, you and Alejandro, huh?"

Heather stopped walking. Noah turned toward her.

"Just what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Noah shrugged. "Hey, if you're too scared…"

Heather rolled her eyes; may as well get this Band-Aid pulled. "We started dating not long after the show wrapped. We must've been in that soundstage pool for twelve hours. In between takes, we got to talking. I really thought we hit it off. One night at a party, we both got pretty drunk. I mean, stupid drunk. Alejandro snuck away and offered to drive me home. Not noticing or caring how messed up he was, I said 'Okay!'. I was asleep for most of the ride, but I felt the car crash. I was still pretty weak and tired. The next thing I know, I'm in handcuffs, being read my rights for driving under the influence. I really loved Alejandro, and the son of a bitch threw me under a bus."

"And tipped the driver to back over you a couple of times, from the looks of it."

"Nice." Heather stomped past Noah.

"Heather, I'm sorry. It just slipped out and it was incredibly childish."

"To put it mildly."

"Yeah." Noah ran to catch up. "That truly stinks. Now, I admit to having limited experience with romance, but, even considering the multitude of crap you've pulled, you don't deserve that." Noah thought about adding 'He doesn't deserve you', but thought better of it. Who knows how she'd take it in this down mood?

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. "Thank you. You really mean that?"

"Yes, I do."

"See, 'cause it's hard to tell. You're sarcastic all the time. You might want to invest in a giant neon sign to let people know when you're being sincere."

"I'll make a note of it", Noah responded, a note of sarcasm in his voice.

* * *

As the sun set on Toronto, the train station was incredibly busy.

Noah carried a suitcase in one hand and a wheeled suitcase sat at his side. Dahlia hugged him goodbye.

"You're sure you'll be fine?"

"It's just a few days in Ottawa. I'll be fine."

Dahlia kissed his cheek. "Call me as soon as you get there."

"You know I will." Noah wiped away a tear. "I just wish Dad were here."

The woman blinked away tears. "So do I, dear. So do I."

"_All aboard!"_

"Well, they're playing my song, I guess." Noah grabbed the handle of his wheeled suitcase.

"Make me proud."

Noah nodded and turned, disappearing into a crowd of people.

Dahlia did her best to smile through her tears.

* * *

Heather opened the door of her hotel room. She tossed her towel onto her bed.

She grabbed the remote and turned on the television.

The opening graphics of "Pascal High" greeted her. The show premiered a few months ago and she did her best to watch it all. The show spoke to her like no other high school series since she'd discovered re-runs of "Edgemont" on YouTube.

Heather settled into her bed, a smile on her face.

"_Viktor's taking me to the dance!"_

"_The Russian exchange student? How'd you swing that?"_

"_He's gorgeous. I'm gorgeous. It just makes sense."_

"_I thought he was going with Danila."_

"_You weren't thinking. That witch can have him when I'm through with him, which will be never."_

"_Oh. By the way, did you do last night's math homework?"_

"_You kidding? I'm getting it done during study hall."_

"_You sure think of everything."_

"_Of course, I do."_

Heather leapt off the bed. The exchange between Keilana and Fawn reminded her of how she envisioned her relationship with Lindsay under better circumstances.

She opened the top drawer of her dresser. Her expression darkened into one of confusion. Her letters were face up.

* * *

Heather wasted no time in going down to the lobby. Gripping the counter, she was right in the face of the concierge. "I know how I keep my property! Can you just tell me if anyone else was in here?"

"I'm sorry, Miss. There's nothing I can do. People come and people go around here."

Heather stomped toward the elevator, muttering a series of unladylike expressions.

She punched the 'up' button of the elevator. The door opened and Heather got on.

A bellhop hurried onto the car. "Hold the elevator, Miss." With a growl, she did just that.

The door closed and the car moved upward.

The hop pushed the '4' button and glanced to Heather. "What's go you so steamed?"

"Someone went through my personal things and no one'll tell me who."

The hop shrugged. "I don't know if this helps, but the other day, this guy helped me with my bags. Never seen him before, though."

Heather decided to humor him. "What did he look like?"

"Dusky skin, kind of scrawny."

"Did he have kind of a nasally voice?"

"Kind of, yeah. I don't know if that helps."

Heather smiled a little. "It does help. Very much."


	6. Violation

**[4d, 24h, 11m, 38s]**

Heather threw open the door of the youth center. She stomped along, a murderous expression on her face.

She knocked on the door of Mrs. Halloway's office.

"Yes?"

Heather opened the door. The older woman sat at her desk, fiddling with a Rubik's Cube.

"Did Noah get in yet?"

Mrs. Halloway chuckled. Her chuckle became a full-on laugh. She didn't take her eyes off the puzzle for a second.

The girl shook her head. "Is something funny?"

"Just the fact that Noah won't be back until the end of the week."

"What?"

"He's in Ottawa; some poetry thing." She turned one of the sides, forming a solid blue. "Anyway, he's only got a couple days left for college credit. Shouldn't be too much trouble."

Heather huffed out.

* * *

**[4d, 26h, 13m, 49s]**

"Okay!"

Heather held a ball between Fisher and June, who held hockey sticks in their hands.

Corey and Margo stood in the respective goals, leaving Leland and Tiffany as (reluctant) defense.

Heather dropped the ball. Sticks clashed as the two teens fought to recover it.

June slapped the ball between Corey's legs, scoring the first goal. As the girls cheered, Heather thought 'I don't need Noah. I'm doing fine on my own.'.

* * *

"Mommy!"

Heather couldn't help but watch as Margo ran toward the blue Impala parked outside the center.

A middle-aged Indian woman sat in the driver's seat. "And how was your day today?", she inquired, a slight accent peeking through.

Margo buckled her seat belt. "It was so much fun, Mommy. First, I got to play hockey. Then, I…"

Margo's account of her day faded in Heather's ears, replaced by the sound of a little girl crying.

Before the young woman's eyes, the little girl crawled into the front seat of a '92 Geo, sobbing her eyes out.

The woman in the driver's seat patted the girl on the back.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?"

The girl sniffled. "The other kids…they- they- they made fun of me! They called me 'little piggy' and 'fat girl'." She folded her arms. "I'm never going back there, again."

The woman pulled out a handkerchief and dried the girl's eyes. "You shouldn't let those kids get to you. You're stronger than you realize."

"But-"

"No buts. Promise me you'll go back tomorrow and not let those meanies get to you."

"I promise."

The woman smiled. "I love you, Heather."

"I love you, too, Mommy."

Nine-year-old Heather hugged her mother.

Meanwhile, Nineteen-year-old Heather snapped out of her flashback, the cars of her charges' parents having long since departed.

* * *

There was but a handful of times that Noah stayed in a hotel room. Though it was big, it felt the smallest of all of them.

His nose buried in "Through the Looking Glass", he sat on the edge of his bed.

His roommate, a live wire of a girl, hopped onto his bed. "Come on. You're gonna get eye strain just reading that book."

"The competition is tomorrow. Don't you think you ought to be prepared?"

"I am prepared. I'm just unwinding."

"You really ought to meet the other contestants. Even meet the judges. Come on. YOLO!"

"What?"

"It's this new expression I came up with. YOLO; you only live once."

Noah rolled his eyes. He shut the book and followed the girl to the door.

* * *

The hotel's ballroom looked amazing, from the buffet dinner to the splashy banner welcoming 'Guests of Poetry Competition'.

Noah sampled a plate of chicken and rice and headed to a table.

He glanced over toward Alejandro, basking in the attention of every female around. Noah couldn't hear what he said, but it must've been funny, given the reaction to it.

A woman with strawberry-blonde hair sat down at his table. "He really is a knob, isn't he?"

Noah turned to the woman and gave her an affirmative nod. "I can't believe he's even here."

"Likewise."

_"…yes, it still kind of hurts, but the important thing is to move on."_

"The nerve of this guy. He gets hurt in an accident and somehow parlays this into a judging gig. What does he even know about poetry?"

"So, I see you've met him?", Noah said, a slight smile on his face.

"My flesh is still crawling. I really needed to get that off my chest."

"Well…I heard somewhere that he may have been…exaggerating about the responsibility of the parties involved in his accident."

The woman smiled. "Fascinating."

* * *

**[5d, 35h, 27m, 12s]**

Heather stared idly at the front door, as if waiting for someone to walk through. Her eyes narrowed as it became clear that the door wouldn't open.

"_Heather?"_

The girl was broken from her spell by Margo.

"What is it? This is supposed to be quiet meditation time."

"I know, but I had to use the washroom. Are you waiting for someone?"

"…no."

"Okay." Margo started toward the gym.

"By the way, what are you meditating about?"

"How I wish the kids at my school were nicer to me. They make fun of me because I'm a big girl."

Heather sighed. "You know, you kind of remind me of me when I was a girl."

"You sound like that's a bad thing."

"It's that obvious?"

"Yeah."

"You may not believe it now, but there was once a time when people picked on me every day for my weight. Made me feel pretty awful. After a while, I promised myself that I'd get thin. I exercised, ate healthier, but the stuff they said to me wouldn't go away. I thought I was losing the weight for me, but it was for them. I was happy at first, but that wore off in a hurry. They were nasty to me, so I decided to be nasty to others; people I might've been nice to if I weren't still carrying around the hurt."

"You seem pretty nice, now."

"Well, I can't exactly be hostile toward children. Nobody's that heartless." Heather grabbed Margo's shoulders. "If you're happy with yourself, that's all that matters. Unless your weight becomes a health issue, you don't have to lose a pound."

"Thanks, Heather." Margo hugged her. "And, by the way, you and my cousin work pretty well together."

Heather shook her head. "Your cousin? Noah?"

"Yeah."

Heather chuckled a little.

* * *

A crowd of people was gathered in the auditorium for the competition. They applauded enthusiastically.

A young Korean girl took a seat next to Noah, smiling and somewhat nervous.

"…and that was Perla Lee and her poem, 'Faint'. Our next contestant hails from Toronto and enjoyed some notoriety on "Total Drama Island" and its follow-up, "Total Drama World Tour."

Noah couldn't help but cringe at the mention of those shows. Granted, he was known for them, but still…

"Noah Ellison."

A roar of applause erupted as Noah took the stage. He had been given the option of reciting the poem from the paper, but the fact that he left it in his seat told everyone that he knew it by heart.

He took a few breaths.

"That damn plane

My father, called away

Proudly he served

Fighting for peace, they called it

He came back, the good fight won

Or so I thought

Government snafu

That damn plane

Called him away again

Wanted to learn so much

How to be

I know he's gone

So empty without him

A small part hopes

Hopes for that damn plane

To bring him home."

As Noah took his seat, the crowd burst into applause. Some people were even wiping away tears.

* * *

Noah breathed in and out to himself. The quiet in the washroom helped to relax him. The poem was the first time he spoke about his father's death since it happened.

He stepped out and walked right into Alejandro.

"Hello."

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

"What _am_ I doing in a bathroom?" Alejandro snorted at the comment. "I just needed a minute."

"Ah. Amazing poem, by the way. I got chills."

"Thank you."

"I guess it wouldn't surprise you to learn that it's this close to being a front-runner." Noah stared incredulously. "I'm serious."

"This must feel different: judging a poetry competition."

"It is, very much." Alejandro sighed wistfully. "I just wish Heather were here."

"I'm sure you do."

"And what does that mean?"

"I heard about her accident."

"Yes, it was tragic."

"She has to perform community service."

"That's what happens when you break the law."

"She's at a youth center."

Alejandro couldn't help but laugh. "Heather mentoring a bunch of kids. I just can't see it."

"That's what I thought, at first. She's actually not bad."

"And you know this because…?"

"I'm there with her." A smile crept onto Noah's face as he spoke. "I didn't think there could be more to her, but I was wrong."

Alejandro studied Noah's face. After a few moments, his own eyes widened. "You like her, don't you?"

"What?"

"Come on. You want to get with her, don't you?"

"Why is that even your business?"

Alejandro folded his arms. "You do. And here I thought that you and Cody were an item."

"Why, because you read it on the internet? Well, in that case, it _certainly_ must be true."

"So, if I read something that said you weren't, that'd be false?"

Noah narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me."

"What's your hurry?", Alejandro called out. He ran to catch up with Noah. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I'm the deciding vote. I'd like to make a deal. You forget about Heather and you win the scholarship."

"Are you serious?"

"As serious as your poem."

"Look at you and look at me. Considering that I might have something for her, Heather's probably the best I'll ever do in this or any lifetime. You…you're a freaking Adonis! You could have any girl in the world, alive or dead! Why does Heather mean so much to you?"

"If you'd been paying attention to 'World Tour', you'd know that I have issues with losing. I don't want to lose Heather."

"You must really want her back, then, huh?"

"No. Not really. I've moved on from her, but how would it look if she moved from me to…well, you?"

"Well, in answer to your deal, may I just say thanks but no thanks."

"You really want to stay with that answer?"

"Yes."

Alejandro shook his head. "Choosing Heather over college…over _anything_. You're making a big mistake."

Noah balled his hand into a fist. He smiled a little.

"I must be on a roll, because I'm about to make another."

Faster than Alejandro could react, Noah punched him in the nose. He shook his hand to make the pain go away; punching people was not an everyday thing for him.

Taking another few moments to breathe in and out, Noah calmly walked away.

Alejandro picked himself up, his hand holding his nose to keep the blood from spilling out. "You call that a poem?", he yelled. "Shit didn't even rhyme!"


	7. Demolition

Noah stood in the lobby of the hotel, his bags gathered around him. The concierge allowed him to make a phone call, as he didn't much believe in owning a cell phone.

"_Hello?"_

"Hi, Mom."

"_Noah! It's so good to hear from you! How are things going in Ottawa?"_

Noah took a breath. "Could you…wire me money for a bus ticket?"

"_Why? What happened? What-?"_

"I promise to explain everything when I get home. Please."

An uncomfortable silence lingered a little too long on the other end.

"_Very well, Noah."_ The phone hung up, which, along with the stern tone in his mother's voice, made him very nervous.

As he lugged his bags across the hotel lobby, questions bounced back and forth in his head: 'could I have handled that better?'; 'what would Dad think; would he proud or upset?'; 'how am I paying for college now?'; 'did I really pick Heather over college?'; 'do I really love her that much?'.

* * *

The cab arrived at the bus station. It would've been so easy for Noah to use his return train ticket, but as that was part and parcel of the competition (which he was no longer a part of), he had no other choice.

The sun had just started to rise as Noah entered the train station. There weren't very many people here, which was understandable.

He headed for a store in which to pick up his money. Western Union was said to be reliable, and it was all he could do to hope.

* * *

The bus made its way down the road, Noah glumly leering out the window. 'It wasn't bad enough to be on that stupid show. Now, I have a new kind of notoriety.'

"Is this seat taken?" The honey in the girl's voice did little to perk up spirits.

Without looking, Noah shrugged. "No." He glanced up. His mood brightened. "Heather!" It was, indeed, her. "How'd you get here?"

"I have my ways", she said as she took the seat next to him. "Why so down?"

"I screwed up. I punched Alejandro. He was the deciding vote for the competition."

"Not that I don't want to knock him out, but why'd you hit him?"

"He was saying all these cruel things about you; how I was stupid to choose you over college."

Heather gasped. "You chose me over going to college?"

Noah smiled a little. "And I'd do it again." Heather leaned over and kissed Noah on the cheek.

"Thanks."

Noah leaned in close and, taking Heather's face in his hand, kissed her. A few kisses soon turned into making out. Noah worked his hands further and further south. He passed the small of Heather's back, which elicited a moan from her, and cupped his hands on her buttcheeks. Feeling bold, Noah gave them a squeeze.

"Mmmmmmh!"

Noah retracted his hands at the muffled outburst.

"Noah!" Heather gave him a cross look, which melted into a softer expression. "Why'd you stop?"

Instead of fumbling for an excuse, Noah resumed kissing Heather and grabbing her behind.

"_Next stop, Toronto!"_

The announcement snapped Noah back to reality. Heather was never there. He had been making out with air.

He sat back as far as he could in his seat, but the material would not absorb him as he wanted at that moment.

* * *

This early in the morning, there was but a handful of staffers and a smattering of guests milling about the lobby of One King West.

Heather passed them and while she was used to people talking about her behind her back, everyone seemed to be giggling.

It struck her as peculiar, to say the least. She gave herself a good once-over. Nothing stuck to her shoes or clothing. Was it all in her imagination?

* * *

Heather opened the door to her room and tossed her towel on the bed.

She scooped up the remote and turned on the television. She flipped around, but stopped on a channel.

It was the briefest of glimpses when she initially passed it, but it looked like Noah was on the screen.

The grainy security camera footage showed Noah punching out Alejandro.

"…this was the sight last night at the Ottawa poetry competition as one of the contestants, identified as Noah Ellison, knocked out judge Alejandro Burromuerto. Interestingly enough, both men were contestants on 'Total Drama World Tour' not months ago…"

Heather's eyes went wide at the sight unfolding before her.

"What in the f…!"

* * *

Dahlia's Chevy Impala cruised along. Noah squirmed a little in the passenger's seat. He hadn't been very troublesome as a child, but he was not immune to the occasional problem.

Still, he felt it important to tell his side.

"...and he was saying these horrible things about her. Granted, I'd have said some of them myself once upon a time, but after the last few days…I'm sorry, Mom. I know I could've handled this better." Noah shook his head. "I'm not even a violent person."

"Well, you certainly proved that last night." Dahlia sighed deeply. "I did not raise you to be a hooligan."

"I know."

"But if this Alejandro is anything like he was on the show, I'd say that punch was well-deserved."

Noah smiled a little, a small light shining in the darkness.

* * *

**[6d, 42h, 33m, 41s]**

Noah entered the center cautiously. He knew that Heather was still here, but, with any luck, she wouldn't be too upset about what had happened, assuming she'd even heard about…

"_Have a nice trip?"_

Noah turned around. There, at the other end of the hall, stood Heather, who looked as mad as a rattlesnake…and just as compassionate.

He slowly approached her. "Yeah. It had its ups and downs."

"I'm sure it did."

"And how have you been doing?"

Heather moved quickly to close the gap. "Pretty well. I think I've got the hang of this place."

"Well, that's good to know-"

Anything that Noah wanted to say after that got cut off. Heather belted him in his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

He grasped his stomach and fell to the floor. Heather stalked off, leaving Noah to wheeze.

* * *

**[6d, 42h, 57m, 16s]**

Noah sat in the break room, nursing a can of Canada Dry.

"_I heard about what happened."_

He turned around and saw Mrs. Halloway standing in the door frame.

"I gotta say I'm impressed. I really thought you were some kind of unmasculine doily boy, but you got a lot of grit."

Unsure how exactly to react, Noah just shrugged. "Thank you?"

"Still, I can't exactly have you around anymore."

"What?"

"I run a tight center. I've got all the hassle I need with your friend. I can't have a violent delinquent looking over the kids here."

'Says the woman with a loaded gun in a youth center' is what he wanted to say, but if last night taught him anything, it's the importance of choosing your battles more wisely.

Noah sputtered. "But I'm only a day away from getting credit."

"Day and a half."

"Mrs. Halloway-"

"I'm sorry. Tell the kids your goodbyes and get lost."

Noah groaned and punched the table.

* * *

In the gym, Noah sat on the bleachers and gathered the kids around. The collective groans stated that he had already given them the news.

"Well, that sucks", Fisher intoned.

Noah shrugged. "Yeah, but what can I do?"

Margo hurried up to her cousin. "Why do you have to go?"

"Well…I punched a guy in the face."

The crowd went up in a chorus of appreciative murmurs.

"This is probably where I should tell you that your problems can't be solved with violence, but that'd be really hypocritical."

Heather opened the door of the gym and glanced at Noah's meeting.

"So, this means I'll have to make up this credit at some point in college." The resigned tone in his voice suggested he was saying this to himself more than to any of the kids.

Noah stood up. Margo wrapped him in a hug. "I'm sorry you have to go."

Noah patted her back. "Don't worry. I'll see you at Thanksgiving."

"And what about us?", June stated. Despite her Goth exterior, she seemed to care about him.

"Well, I don't know if you're into the hugging thing and I don't really blame-"

The rest of the kids enveloped Noah in a hug.

"Okay, didn't expect this." Noah smiled a little. The kids let him go.

He walked toward the door, but stopped after a few steps.

"Heather's in charge, now. Be nice to her. She deserves it…more than I ever did."

He continued his trek to the door. Heather hurried away from it before it was opened.

* * *

Lights were set up in the hotel ballroom. A video camera was focused. Alejandro, a splint on his nose, stood behind a podium. He was being touched up with make-up by a pretty intern.

He flashed her a megawatt smile, turning her legs to gelatin as she walked away.

A crowd of reporters gathered in front of him.

"I'm glad you've all come."

One reporter stepped out of the crowd. "Just what happened, Alejandro?"

"Well, I ran into Noah. We exchanged some words and, before I know it, pow! Lucky shot, but it still hurts."

Another reporter came forward. "What was the nature of these words?"

"Just Noah being a sore loser about 'Total Drama'…and the competition."

"Will you be pressing charges against Noah?"

Alejandro shrugged. "I don't want to, but the guy attacked me. What am I supposed to do?"

Standing in the back of the room was the woman with the strawberry blonde hair. She looked as angry as she'd ever been. She whipped out her cell phone and dialed.

"_Information. How may I direct your call?"_

"Yes, could you get me in touch with the Toronto Department of Traffic?"


	8. Restitution

It had been a long day at the center, what with Noah being let go and having to shoulder the responsibility on her own. All Heather wanted was to unwind with dinner at Harvey's.

The shuttle dropped her off in front of the restaurant. As she opened the door to walk in, Noah walked out.

She double-taked as he passed her.

"You're not even going to say 'hello'?" Noah turned around. The sight of Heather with her hands on her hips greeted him. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You didn't even say 'goodbye'."

Noah waved weakly. "Hello. Goodbye." He shuffled down the street. Heather ran to catch up with him.

"Just what happened?" Noah opened his mouth to speak, but Heather continued. "I mean, as far as I'm concerned, anyone who breaks Alejandro's nose deserves a medal, but you?! I need context."

"Can I give it?"

"Give away."

Noah glances around. "Must we do this in the street?"

* * *

Noah and Heather sat in a booth, much to the amazement of the people who walked in and out of Harvey's.

Heather tore into a grilled burger, frings on the side. Noah simply sipped on a soda.

"You sure it doesn't bother you, not getting something to eat?"

"Trust me, I'm fine." Noah took another sip.

"If you're not eating, what are you even doing here?"

"Looking for work. Because of what I did, Mom says she's not contributing a single loonie to my education."

She folded her arms. "Yeah. Moms can be so annoying."

"But, at the end of the day, I don't know what I'd do without her."

Heather looked away guiltily as she took another bite.

Noah fixed his gaze on her meal. "Seriously?"

Heather swallowed her bite. "What?"

"You and Harvey's. I just don't see it."

"Well, I was kinda raised on the stuff. You never really lose your taste for it. Now, the context."

"Well, there was a poetry competition-"

"I know that."

Noah rolled his eyes slightly. "First prize was a college scholarship, and Alejandro was a judge."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction. A few minutes after I presented my poem, I run into him on the way back from the washroom. We get to talking. It turns out that he's the deciding vote and that…"

"Yeah?! Don't keep me in suspense."

He was upset at Heather's constant interruptions, but held himself together. "…he'd cast the vote for my poem if I forgot about you."

"So, let me get this straight; you have a choice between me and college…and you pick me?"

Noah was taken aback; not a trace of flattery in her voice.

"Granted, I am a catch, but I figure a guy like you would jump at the chance for an education."

"I'd be quite surprised if you've never heard this before, but you make it impossible for anyone to want to like you."

Heather stared, dumbfounded. "And you don't?!"

"Thanks for the soda." Noah stood up and headed for the door.

Heather followed him outside. "You chose me over college. What, do you like me?"

Noah stopped dead at hearing this question. Punching Alejandro, to say nothing of throwing away money for college, was the most impulsive thing he'd ever done; certainly the only one in a relatively mundane life. Was he willing to commit another impulsive act?

"Yeah. I do. I kind of do."

Heather fought to keep down the blush that was rising on her face. She had no problem manipulating the feelings of guys who professed their like of her in the past, but she'd actually spent time with Noah; actually gotten to know him a little. He'd been willing to call her on her bullshit, but even more, he was willing to help her with it.

"Well, fine, 'cause, I kinda feel…that way, as well…towards you."

As Heather closed the gap between them, Noah raised an eyebrow. He'd been hoping that his first girlfriend would've been a bit more…romantic; more open about her feelings. This was Heather, though, so he figured he had to take what he could get.

Heather shrugged. "I guess I owe _you_ some context."

"What for?"

"That punch the other day. That was for sneaking into my hotel room."

"Hey. I was just curious to see how you were living, unless you have a summer home you've kept hidden from the press."

"You had no right."

"Let's say I went up to your room and you were in there. Would you have invited me in?"

"Hell, no."

"Well, there you are."

She folded her arms. "You know what really pisses me off?"

"What?"

"That Alejandro is getting away with this. And why do you get to punch him and I don't?"

"Well, you kneed him in the jewels. That counts for seven punches, I would think."

Heather laughed a little. She smiled demurely. "Good luck with the job hunt."

He returned the smile. "Thanks."

* * *

Noah had spent the morning at the mall. A number of stores would certainly be hiring for the fall.

One of them was a very bright place on the inside. Two blonde girls who looked very similar in a certain light were folding sweaters.

Noah walked up to them and cleared his throat.

"How may we help you?", one of the girls said.

"Could I get a job application, please?"

"Sure." She handed him an application. The moment it left her hand, she and her compatriot squinted at him, as if in recognition.

"Do we know him?"

"I don't know."

* * *

In the food court, Noah filled out the application as best as he could. He had no prior work experience, but, he thought to himself, 'how much experience do I need folding clothes?'.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, he dropped off the application. The two similar-looking girls, who seemed so nice before, scowled at him in a manner that would've made Heather proud.

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes, there is." One of the girls raised her phone to his face. It was at the gossip site and it showed the video of Noah punching out Alejandro.

"You punched out Alejandro."

"Yeah, but-"

"He is hotness personified."

"Hot times hot to the power of hot." The girls spoke in a way that each sentence picked up right at the end of the previous, leaving no dead space.

"As long as he had a face, I had a place to sit and you ruined it!"

"You big ruiner!"

Noah simply fast-walked out of the store. "Okay. Definitely crossing The Khaki Barn off my list of potential places to work."

* * *

Noah was guided through a large store by a young man whose thick glasses and greasy complexion suggested that he wasn't terribly popular.

"The Stereo Shack caters to a clientele seeking the latest in electronics, be it high-definition televisions, Blu-Ray players or computers." The young man's nasally voice hadn't bothered Noah as much as it did others. "Any questions?"

"None that I can think of."

The young man led Noah to the wall of televisions. He glanced up at the screens. "Hey, isn't that you?"

Noah's eyes widened.

The footage of Noah punching out Alejandro played out next to him, twelve feet high and thirty feet wide.

"This was the scene at the poetry competition in Ottawa just a few days ago. The victim was former "Total Drama World Tour" contestant Alejandro Burromuerto, who had just recovered from an auto accident…"

Noah buried his face in his hands. "Oh, Lord."

"…_we exchanged some words and, before I know it, pow!"_

"_Will you be pressing charges against Noah?"_

"_I don't want to, but the guy attacked me. What am I supposed to do?"_

"This was part of an interview we were going to run within the next few days, but in a stunning development, we learn that Alejandro may have been the cause of the auto accident."

A picture appeared on the screen. It was of Alejandro driving with a sleeping Heather in the passenger seat.

Noah stared in shock.

"Thanks to an anonymous tip and a traffic camera, we've learned that Alejandro was driving and that it was his irresponsibility that caused the wreck."

Noah chuckled.

* * *

**[7d, 52h, 24m, 36s]**

Heather opened her locker and checked her phone. While she was starting to enjoy her responsibilities, she couldn't resist the siren song of social media.

She used to love checking the gossip sites, but being on the wrong side of the attention rifle soured her on that. Still, she wondered why Alejandro was trending.

"_Thanks to an anonymous tip and a traffic camera, we've learned that Alejandro was driving and that it was his irresponsibility that caused the wreck."_

Heather laughed deeply; not an evil laugh, but a triumphant one.

* * *

The concierge at the front desk scowled as Alejandro approached him.

He handed the man his room key. "So, I guess I'm checking out today." The concierge snatched it away. "Okay."

Alejandro picked up his luggage and walked off, the eyes of everyone in the lobby boring through him.

His phone rang. As best as he could, he answered it.

"Talk to me."

"_You framed that girl for the accident?!"_ It was Alejandro's agent, who didn't sound very happy.

"Don't you start, too."

"_You ruined her life because you couldn't take your medicine. Do you realize how toxic that makes someone?"_

"We can talk all about it when I get back."

A huge laugh emanated from the other end, causing Alejandro to stop in a revolving door.

"Did I miss the punchline?"

"_There is no 'we' anymore?"_

"You're dropping me?"

"_Don't act like I had a choice."_

An older gentleman knocked on the door. "It's not like I killed anyone." After glancing back, Alejandro walked through the door and down the stairs.

"_Think of it from my point of view: hot young client has a skeleton in the closet that he covers up, it gets out, suddenly, his career dries up and no ten percent for me. Really, this is the best thing for everyone."_

"But-" Click. Alejandro pocketed his phone and hurried to the curb. He flagged down a cab.

The strawberry blonde ran toward Alejandro as he tossed his luggage into the trunk. He settled into the back seat.

She cleared her throat. He glanced up at her. "Hey. Come to see me off?"

"Actually, I wanted to tell you, in person, that I was the anonymous tip that got you busted."

"It was you?"

"Yeah. My cousin's ex-boyfriend works in the Toronto Department of Traffic. I knew you were a snake - well, anyone who saw "World Tour" could've figured that out - but framing someone for drunk driving. You disgust me." She slammed the car door on him.

"Look-"

"I have a Master's Degree in Literature with a minor in Roman History. Did you really expect a woman like me to get swayed by your nonsense?" She took two steps away, before returning to the cab. "Oh, and as an educated woman, let me just say one more thing."

"What's that?"

A huge smile formed on her face. "Eat shit!"


	9. Resolution

Noah flexed the fingers on his right hand, sore as they were from filling out applications. He had applied to every business in the mall. Some of the merchants recognized him from "Total Drama" (and couldn't help but muse at how far he'd fallen) and some of them recognized him from the video. The comments under their breath as he turned in his applications didn't fill him with confidence.

Still, there was a mild ray of hope: the loud, muscular gentleman who ran the sporting goods store had admired his "moxie", as he put it.

Noah reached into his pocket and pulled out his house keys, somehow missing the second car in the driveway.

He opened the door. The sight gave him pause.

Dahlia sat on the couch, with the strawberry blonde judge sitting in a chair and sipping a cup of tea.

"Mom." Noah turned to the houseguest. "Um…"

"Barbara Teegarden. Professor Barbara Teegarden at Humber College."

Noah gasped. "That's the school I was hoping to go to in the fall. They have an incredible Literature program."

"Well, it didn't get that way by accident."

Noah took a seat next to his mother. "What brings you here?"

"Number one, thank you."

"For what?"

Barbara mimed throwing a punch. He nodded in comprehension.

"Number two, the other judges and I convened not long after the news of Alejandro's treachery came to light. You're welcome, by the way. In spite of the punch, your poem was quite impressive. Very worthy of first prize."

"Thank you."

"Which is why we've decided to split the scholarship money between you and the other first prize winner."

Noah hugged his mother. "I really don't know what to say."

"Just say 'I'll be seeing you in the fall'."

Dahlia nudged him. "Well, go ahead!"

"I'll be seeing you in the fall." Noah shook Prof. Teegarden's hand, a surprised laugh in his throat.

* * *

Heather smiled all the way home. The change in her attitude threw the One King West staff off guard.

As she stepped off the elevator, she was practically floating. She opened the door and fell backwards onto her bed.

She closed her eyes, ready for a power nap. Her cell phone rang, shattering the silence. With a groan, Heather answered it.

"Hello?"

"_Hello, Heather."_

Heather sat up, a shocked look on her face. "Mom?"

"_Yes. I just heard about Alejandro." _The girl's expression soured. She exhaled, waiting for whatever poisonous barb her mother had to dole out. _"I'm sorry I didn't believe you."_

Heather raised an eyebrow. Her first instinct - which she'd have certainly acted on had the truth been uncovered earlier - was to yell 'I told you so!' at the top of her voice. Instead, she sat on the bed, listening.

"_So, how's the community service going?"_

"It's actually going pretty well. I like the kids, they like me. I'm having a good time."

"_That's nice. Heather, I want to apologize for those things I said the last time we spoke."_

This line took her by surprise. "Thank you."

"_You're my little girl. I'd never leave you on the street. I guess I was just frustrated about what happened. I mean, you were a nightmare on that show, but you'd have never done anything illegal."_

Heather shook her head. "No. Never."

"_The season is about to wrap up. Do you think we could get together and talk?"_

Heather smiled a little. She wiped tears away from her face. "Yeah. That'd be great."

* * *

**[8d, 58h, 33m, 17s]**

Heather walked down the hall to the equipment room. She skidded to a stop at seeing Noah step out of Mrs. Halloway's office.

"Noah?"

He waved weakly. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

"I was talking with Mrs. Halloway. I asked her - begged her, really - to come back."

"And how did that work out?"

He grinned confidently. "I come back tomorrow."

"That's good."

"You sure you can hold things down around here without me?"

"I'll manage somehow." Heather walked off.

"Where are you going?"

"Getting a new basketball. The one we were using got stuck in the upper grating and the ladder doesn't reach that high."

"Yeah, that's a problem." Noah walked by, but turned around. "And please don't tell the kids."

"Why not?"

"I didn't want to get their hopes up in case Halloway said no."

"Where are you headed now?"

"Still looking for a job. I've been following some leads my uncle gave me."

"Well, I'll see you."

"Yeah. I'll see you." Noah disappeared out of the front door.

Heather opened the door to the equipment room. Seconds later, she emerged with a basketball. She test-bounced it on the floor. It bounced back into her hands.

Noah threw the door back open.

The sudden noise made Heather turn around. "Noah?"

"What you said the other day." He approached her with purpose. "I don't have giant neon sign money, but until I do…"

"Wha-"

Noah grabbed Heather's arms and kissed her. The arm grab was as much for theatricality as it was for his own protection; she wasn't keen on surprises.

The ball slipped from her grasp.

Heather groaned as her lips were assaulted, but then, a funny thing happened: the initial shock of suddenly being kissed wore off. It was replaced by…it'd been a long time since she felt this, but it resembled…warmth.

Her groans of protest melted away, replaced by approving moans.

Heather slipped her hands around Noah's waist, which encouraged him to let go of her arms. He allowed his own hands to slide around the small of her back.

Had their eyes been opened during this display of affection, they'd have seen their charges staring at them, clearly enthralled by the show.

They'd have also seen Fisher slipping Corey a five-dollar note.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

Noah and Heather broke apart at hearing Mrs. Halloway's rasped exclamation.

The older woman stared at the young adults, anger in her eyes. "You two, my office! Now!"

Noah and Heather walked side by side down the hall. The smiles on their faces - his, in particular - said that they had no regrets.

Mrs. Halloway turned toward the children, who were still gathered around. "And why are you still here? Get to the gym!"

The kids dispersed. Mrs. Halloway grabbed Corey by the shoulder, which kept him from catching up with the other kids.

She slipped him a five-dollar note. "If anyone asks about this, I'll just deny it."

Corey studied the note. "Whatever you say, boss lady."

* * *

Heather pulled up in the rent-a-car. The only parking spaces she could find were across the street from the nice-looking house she had wanted to go to.

The street was quiet, as befitting the oncoming holiday. She pulled her coat tight, a chill in the air.

She rang the doorbell. Even before the door opened, she could hear the music and smell the food.

The door opened. It was Noah, in an apron, an accoutrement that made Heather snicker.

"Heather. What brings you here?"

"Just thought I'd say hi. Hi."

"Hi. You want to come in?"

"No. I'm on my way to the airport. I'm gonna see my mother."

"Well, that's nice."

Heather took a sniff. "That smells really good."

"Just preparing for tomorrow. Everyone in the family makes something. I'm working on dessert." Noah sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, Alejandro made good on his assault case. I got a subpoena the other day."

"That son of a bitch."

"No one else but my mom knows."

"Do you have a lawyer, because I know a pretty good one if you don't."

"Thanks."

"Also, I meant to do this sooner, but thanks for the chivalry."

"It's okay. I was just defending your honor, m'lady." Noah mimed taking a hat off.

"I didn't even think I had honor to defend."

"That would've made two of us." The two of them laughed. "Have a nice time with your mother."

"I will." Heather leaned in to kiss Noah's cheek. The warmth of the kiss felt especially good in the cool air.

Heather trod down the walkway. Snapping out of his daze, Noah stepped out and hurried after her. "Wait!"

She turned around.

"Maybe, we could get together for Christmas?"

Heather smiled sweetly. "Sure."

Noah gave her a peck on the lips. She lightly smacked his arm and walked away, a sway in her hips.

"_Noah, are you coming inside?"_

He said nothing in response, his mother's words meaning little in the face of this enchanting girl who pulled away into the night.

He stood in front of his house until the car was out of sight. For the first time in a long time, he knew what it was to be happy.

* * *

The sky was overcast with clouds. Rain was imminent. On the side of the highway, a figure stabbed at trash with a pointed stick, cutting a sullen figure in orange.

The stick ran through a Harvey's take-out bag. The figure dumped it into the trash bag.

It was Alejandro.

He jabbed the stick through an old Blue Jays program. The wear on the pages suggested an early July game.

He placed the program in the bag. Stepping forward, his foot landed in something squishy…and foul-smelling.

He groaned as he took a look at the sole of his shoe. For caribou, the world is their washroom.

"How much longer do I have to do this?", he said, on the verge of whining.

Chef Hatchett peered over his mirrored sunglasses. "Your sentence said 200 hours! We're nowhere close to that!"

"I mean today. It is a holiday."

"Eh, just a few more miles, pretty boy. Got a special Thanksgiving feast planned." Alejandro's mouth watered. "Tofurkey pate, bread in a can, three bean casserole and, for dessert, rhubarb pie a-la-mode."

He groaned once again, much longer than before. He took a look at the reindeer droppings and, if only for a moment, considered Professor Teegarden's suggestion as an alternative to the…food offered at the detention home.

"I know you can't wait for my grub, but this trash ain't picking itself up anytime soon!"

Alejandro continued on his path, angrily stabbing trash and shoving it into his bag.

"Now that's the fire I want to see! I'll make sure you get seconds on the casserole."

Alejandro let another groan escape his lips, his life fertile with the fruits of karma.

* * *

A/N: Hard to believe I've reached the end of this story…and that I've provided updates in a timely manner (it pays to be two to three weeks ahead).

It's nice that there are so many Noah/Heather supporters out there. I just like her better with him than with Alejandro, where I feel a) they're way too similar and b) honest love could never grow out of how they played each other.

Be sure to stay tuned in the fall, because I have a new story cooking. It doesn't star Noah or Heather, but they will appear. The focus of the story will be a pairing I like even more than this; a pairing that people don't care for, for some reason. In fact, it's my OTP, as the kids call it.

Thanks for reading and reviewing (and faving and following) and have a nice day.


End file.
